


filios

by esstiel



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Children, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esstiel/pseuds/esstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Tumblr Prompt</b>: Cullen telling Dorian something that turns him into a blushing, stammering mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	filios

**Author's Note:**

> Written in my askbox. Find me on tumblr @esstiel.

Dorian hates children.

They’re sniveling, snot-filled terrors who run entirely too fast for how tiny their legs are, who cry when you tell them that no, you’re  _not_  allowed to jump off the balcony, no you can  _not_  fly, quit pouting else you’ll be getting no dessert.

So, naturally, considering how much he detests them, he often finds himself surrounded by the little monsters; the children of servants and merchants and dignitaries who have no one to watch them and can’t resist the chance to see a Real Vint, In The Flesh. At first they watch from afar like deer, wide eyes and skittish, disappearing should he so much as stare at them for too long. Soon stories spread amongst the little ones that he’s mean, scary, a monster who hides under their beds, waiting for a chance to snip off their toes for his evil blood magic!

Cullen relays all this with a smirk whenever they find the time to play chess, in between their thinly veiled flirting and verbal footsie, and Dorian brushes it off every time. Because he hates children.

Really.

So when he’s walking in the garden to his next chess match and a little girl, six years at most, runs head-first into his legs while his back is turned and takes him down, everyone expects him to berate the girl. She does, the onlooking Skyhold visitors do, even _he_  expects himself to. Because that’s what someone who hates children would do.

But its the welling of tears and the naked  _fear_  in her eyes that chances his mind. Instead, he helps her to her feet and stands up himself, brushing the dirt first from his legs, then from her dress. “Don’t cry, child,” he says softly, kneeling down to her eye level with what he hopes is a friendly smile. She shies away though, sniffling, and he sighs. “You’re not hurt, are you?” he tries asking, and she simply sniffles again in response.

Sighing, Dorian thinks for a second, looking around at what was at his disposal. He stands and quickly snags a flower bud from one of the nearby apothecary pots, a Harlot’s Blush, and with a little magic, the flower blooms early, bright blue petals practically glowing in the afternoon sunlight. With dramatic flourish—one of the more complicated bows from Tevinter, though modified for the height difference—he presents the flower to the girl. 

"A beautiful flower for a beautiful young lady," he says, and the answering smile makes one come to his lips as well. She takes the flower and blushes before running away, skirts flying like the banners over the battlements. 

Satisfied with his work, Dorian continues the rest of the way to his chess match with Cullen. When he sits, Cullen greets him with a secret little smile.

"What?" Dorian asks, settling into his chair and crossing his legs. 

"I thought you hated children," Cullen says, making his first move on the board. It was a rule between them, whoever arrived first played first, and Dorian makes his move before responding.

"Well and true, but listening to children screaming and crying is at the very top of my ‘Things I Do Not Want’ list." Dorian pauses. "Followed closely by ‘Corypheus Winning’."

Cullen chuckles and shakes his head, that mysterious little smile still on his face.

A dozen or so moves into their game, completely lacking in the flirty banter Dorian’s come to love and crave, and—

"Please do explain what you find so humorous," Dorian says with exasperation, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. 

Cullen shrugs and moves his rook to take Dorian’s knight, adding it to the growing pile of black pieces in his possession. “Just an amusing thought,” he says elusively, not meeting Dorian’s pointed stare.

"And what, pray tell, is this amusing thought?"

"Just that you would make a good father."

Oh. 

Dorian stops breathing, the words repeating in his head. A good father. Him. Cullen thinks he would be a good father. Cullen thinks he’s a good enough person to raise a child, to care for a child, to  _love_  a child and not make the same mistakes his own father made. The thought of  _anyone_ , especially Cullen, thinking so highly of him makes his chest hurt, like his heart is trying to grow but can’t remember how to, not really.

"R—" His throat catches and he clears it, trying to will away the blasted heat rising to his cheeks. "Really?" 

"Of course," is Cullen’s reply, as if it’s common knowledge. "You’re a great man, Dorian, and seeing you with that child just now…" He trails off and shrugs again, smiling at the man across from him. "Any child would be lucky to have you as a parent."

Dorian’s mind is blank, so completely caught off guard and surprised, that he stammers and coughs, words trying to spill from his lips but not knowing the proper way out. He clears his throat again and hell and damnation he won’t stop blushing. He scrambles, looks for anything to say to take the attention off himself while he mentally repairs, but nothing comes to mind besides, “Thank you.”

So that’s what he says and Cullen nods in reply and they continue their game as if nothing had happened. But something  _had_  happened, and Dorian feels lighter than he has in years, a question he hadn’t even known he was asking answered for him. He carries that feeling with him like a precious gift for the rest of the day.

And the next time a gaggle of children follows him around the fortress, Dorian beckons them close and offers them candies and pretty things, toys and books. And the next time, they manage to convince him to play a game of tag.

Dorian never thought that children laughing would be music to his ears, but, that’s how his life tends to be.


End file.
